They Were There, to Give A Care (A Homage at Christmas, to those who work in Hospitality)

Those who choose, to play King and Queen,

by conducts; elect them, not to be seen,

until the time, they take things down,

at the table, and from their crown,

 

they run around, like headless chickens,

with a handful of scribbled tickets,

in the hope; in heart, plates are right,

to escape a tirade; hot air fight,

 

their dish is down, something’s missing,

the punter snakes, begin their hissing,

their speech does write, a waiter’s fear,

when serving soup, they bring the tears,

 

in drunken wake, a pub is war,

as every head becomes so sore,

for arms do fly, when livers toil,

black-eyed barman begins to coil,

 

then base red mist, goes away,

the paying guest, sees their decay,

to see not an apron, but human being,

what a depressing living scene,

 

thus, a tip, becomes an apology,

we must improve psychology,

for life; so hard; is what we share,

learn they were there, to give a care.